spaces after the silence
by Demonic Angel Clone
Summary: "- two painfully lonely and heart-broken people finding comfort in each other." Post ME3


_**Prompt from the ME Kink Meme**: Garrus/Ashley, comforting each other after Shepard's death_

_**Pairings**: Garrus/Ashley, past Shakarian_

* * *

_spaces after the silence_

* * *

_After giving the Matlock in her hand one more polishing swipe, Williams looks up at her commander with a shake of her head. "Sometimes, I really wonder about you Skipper."_

_Shepard leans casually against the counter of her station. She's not at all what she expected from that first meeting on Eden Prime. She certainly isn't as stiff as her other commanding officers, that's for damn sure. No, there was just something about Shepard, and the way she moved, and the way she talked that just demanded respect._

_And then there were moments like these. Moments Ashley would look back on and not realize the impact until it was long gone. _

_Her body's at an angle with her elbows on the counter behind her, but her head is level, staring straight ahead._

_Staring straight at that turian they picked up a few days ago on the Citadel._

_Finally, she turns and looks at the gunnery chief. "Oh, I don't know, Ash. Haven't you ever been…curious?"_

"_Curious, ma'am?"_

"_About other races." And before Ashley could even open her mouth, Shepard puts her hand out. "I know about your history, okay?" Ashley's mouth thins into a sharp line and she grips the shaft in her hand a little harder than she should. Dammit. "I just wanted you to know that, and that I don't hold that against you."_

_Ashley's grip slacks. "You don't?"_

"_I don't," Shepard echoes. "Way I see it, it makes you stronger. Rising against adversity. Carrying on the family name. I know something about that," Shepard's smile becomes roguish. "You should be proud of yourself."_

_Ashley tries to tamper down the smile that wants to show itself. She looks at Shepard, but she's staring ahead again. "Still," The commander says, more softly and serious, "you shouldn't take that out on him."_

_Ashley sighs, letting out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "I haven't done anything to him."_

"_You haven't spoken to him, either."_

"_I haven't gotten around to it."_

"_Were you planning on getting around to it?"_

_Ashley drops down the gun she was holding forcefully on the counter. "I'm not racist, Shepard."_

"_I didn't say you were, Ashley."_

"_I-" Shit. "Shepard, I'll play nice if that's what you're worried about."_

"_You'll do more than play nice," Shepard keeps that calm, almost madding tone. "We're a team, all of us. We're here to get a job done, and while we're at it, we'll treat each other with the same respect we want handed to us, am I making myself clear, Ash?"_

"_Crystal, ma'am," Ash murmurs._

"_Good." Shepard pushes off against the counter, smile back in place so quick you'd never think it was gone. "Besides, I've spoken to him a bit. Seems like you two would get along well."_

_Ashley fights the urge to scoff. Get along well? With a turian? The first time she met a turian, he was dead, and she wasn't quite heartbroken to find him that way._

_Shepard walks away from her post across the cargo bay, and against her better judgment, Ashley looks back over her shoulder to see Shepard speaking easily with Vakarian. How could she, not very unlike herself, regard aliens so cavalierly? Like they were people?_

_It bothers her because they stand like people, they talk like people. For all intents and purposes, they are, and yet in a lot of ways they aren't. People don't murder civilians. People don't invent ways to drive other people to extinction. People don't make machines whose sole objective for existing is to kill other people._

_Aliens do._

_She doesn't even know why she cares so much about it, except she does. Yes, it was history, but it was that same history that royally fucked her grandfather and her dad over. Has fucked her over._

_So, there. She's not exactly in a rush to engage in alien relations anytime soon, and maybe that doesn't make her an ambassador, but that's fine with her because she's a solider, through and through. And she's not going to apologize for it, no matter what Shepard says. It doesn't make her friendly, but it doesn't make her fake either. _

_She grabs the Matlock in front of her, and starts polishing it again, despite the now offending shine that suggests that it doesn't need to be._

* * *

Ashley remembers Udina, trying to hone her to fit into Shepard's place when she died, trying to make her into some kind of figure of hope for humanity.

She also remembers shooting the bastard square in his chest, too. Maybe that makes the first point a moot one.

She heads to the CIC for a debriefing - she's needed back at the Citadel on the Council's word, and she's commandering the Normandy SR-2 on Hackett's. It's hollow, not at all how she expected to get her ship, if she ever got one at all. Some part of her, even though she was aware of how unlikely that was, just always expected to be on Shepard's.

After three days, she heads down to the main battery, which was avoided painstakingly by all crewmembers. No one knew what to say, and most were too scared to say anything that could be taken the wrong way.

This was an intergalactic war, and even the strongest of adversaries were casualties. Shepard was no exception.

The double doors open and as always, Garrus stands at his podium, working.

"You know, I don't see how much calibrating the ship can handle."

Gloved talons pitter patter on the display underneath.

Ugh, she's no good at this. It's not like she's Shepard. No, Shepard would know what to say at a time like this. She blew hot and cold at all the right times, and she was the love of Garrus' life. Of course she'd know what to say. But if there was anything that Ashley was, it was determined. So, she tries again, stepping closer, "You haven't eaten in two days."

The keys clack under his ministrations.

"And Vega's been missing his spar partner like _crazy_. Not to mention that Tali hasn't had anyone to argue with about how much damage the drive core took," She crosses her arms as she stands next to him, but his nimble talons prattle on.

Time to change tactics.

"Shepard wouldn't want to see you like this."

The movement of the keys stop, and the room falls silent. Garrus looks up and straightens his shoulders, and Ashley braces herself.

Bingo.

"And how would you know what Shepard wanted?" He says stiffly, not looking at the Spectre beside him.

"She loved you," Ashley said. "And when you love someone, you don't want to see them get hurt, even if they're the ones hurting themselves." She remembers getting that call that her Dad died. She got the call. She had to tell her mom and little sisters that he was KIA. Maybe that's why she took it upon herself to sign up after high school. All because she took that call. "Hurting yourself isn't going to change anything; it isn't going to bring her back."

"But Cerberus could."

And she fights back a shiver, shaking her head. "Shepard wouldn't want that."

"How would you know what Shepard would want?" He turns sharply and looks down at her, and his eyes are cold, detached, his visor furiously scanning readouts she can't make out from her vantage point. He's serious, and she knows she shouldn't push this, but the thought of this happening again when she knows differently causes her to speak out.

"Because she told me, Garrus! She was a fighter, but at the end of the day, she was human, and she knew that she would die one day, for good. She sacrificed herself-"

"For a galaxy that won't remember what she did or who she was," Garrus cuts her off. He steps closer, hovering with barely restrained anger at the lieutenant-commander. "Don't try to convince me that she wouldn't want to be brought back because I'll never believe it. I'll never believe that she wanted to be without me." He looks away, "She was brought back before, she can come back again."

"It doesn't work that way," Ashley says calmly. She's maintaining her control better than she ever thought she could. "Shepard wanted to pass on when that time came again. "And I'm not saying that you shouldn't try to bring her back, if it's even possible…"

"I wasn't planning to," Garrus' mandibles flare out and inward.

"But you should at least honor what she would want."

He tilts his head over hers and this isn't Garrus, she knows that. It doesn't stop her from tilting her head back, or gritting her teeth behind her lips. Shepard was always so cool and collected, even when she was pissed. It was one of those unnerving and admirable things that Ashley always liked about her, but could never emulate. Shepard would've probably dropped this for now, and come back later. Said her piece without being too evading, and then walk out and give the person time to think about what she said.

But Ashley isn't Shepard. Not by a longshot.

"And I ask you, one more time, Williams: how the _hell_ would you know what she wanted?" Garrus inquires fiercely.

"You weren't the only one who lost someone, Vakarian. She was the best the Alliance could offer, and she was my best friend." She says just as indignantly, tilting her face up towards his.

When he walks away, which is what she wanted him to do in the first place, the words feel hollow. Garrus heads down to the mess for the first time in days and everyone continues on with their tasks, though few spare wary and concerned glances the turian's way.

* * *

She passes by Shepard's cabin later on. And the oxymoron isn't lost on her. You don't just _pass by_ Shepard's cabin. You're either there because you want to be, or because she requested you to come.

It's her cabin now. She has to remember to stop calling it Shepard's and start calling it hers. But she can't. In a way, it'll always be Shepard's and she can't be bothered with moving her stuff her from her much smaller space into the untapped space that was Shepard's. Unfortunately, it's no longer an option. The fact of the matter is that the Alliance likes to make boundaries and areas very clear and concise for the other crewmembers to abide by. The _Normandy_ is under her command now, and this cabin is the cabin of the commanding officer. It's all very clear.

But it doesn't make it easier, make it simpler.

With a sigh, she enters and heads straight for the private terminal by the door, checks messages she's already checked.

Heads to the private bathroom and starts stripping off her overcoat, her undershirt, her bra.

By the time she pulls down her panties, she flicks on the light and looks up at the mirror in front of her, face contorting in shock. Because in the mirror is a clear view of Shepard's bed across the cabin, and on the bed is Garrus. The casual way his talons are folded across his midsection and the rise and fall of his chest beneath his tunic tell her he's asleep. That he doesn't know that she's in the room. That he wouldn't watch her strip down to her birthday suit and not say anything.

Rationally, she knows all of this.

But it's not like she's the most level-headed when it comes to things like this: she's not Shepard.

She bends to put her underwear back on, and maybe if she's quiet enough, she could escape this very embarrassing situation. The majority of the cabin is still dark sans the glow of the fishtank in the far corner, and-

Garrus' eyes open, and he looks up at the overhead display, up at the stars. Ashley slips behind the wall in the bathroom, thankful that the cabin has this enclosure. She puts on her shirt and overcoat quickly, so much so that she doesn't realize she's missing her bra.

Dammit.

The bathroom door closes quietly after the doorway was left inactive.

Garrus hears the door closing and rises up quickly from the covers. "Shepard?" He inquires automatically.

The room's silence is a loud reminder that she's not going to answer. She's never going to answer him again.

"Spirits," Garrus swears. He gets up from the bed, rubbing his face with his palms and stepping out of the main part of the room, he spots an undergarment on the floor by the bathroom door. He frowns, picking it up and examining it.

It's beige and spotted. He remembered Shepard wearing black lace.

But it's warm. And it was on the floor of her cabin, and soft. He grips the soft material and he imagines her flesh underneath it, imagines all of the nights they had and all of the subsequent nights that they could have had.

On a whim, he lifts it to his snout and inhales deeply.

It's almost as if she never left.

He pockets the undergarment and leaves his late lover's cabin in peace.

* * *

TBC...

DAC


End file.
